From: bellydancergirl7@aol.com   
      
   All disclaimers are in part one.   
      
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   `Why is a woman's sexuality   
   Always under so much scrutiny?   
   Why can't she do exactly as she please   
   Without being called a million things?'   
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   December 30, 1999   
      
   "Please, it's just one night."   
      
   "I know and I told you… How'd you get this number? I'm not listed."   
      
   "You gave me your cell number and I have friends that got me your   
   home number."   
      
   "Mulder! That's a complete invasion of privacy!"   
      
   "But you haven't hung up yet so it can't be that much of an invasion."   
      
   "Mulder…"   
      
   "You still haven't answered my question."   
      
   "Yes, I have but the word `no' is obviously not in your vocabulary."   
      
   "It is, just not in the context you're using. Come one, give me a   
   shot. You don't work tomorrow and your fiancé is out of town, which I   
   find odd by the way."   
      
   "I knew I shouldn't have told you."   
      
   "You're breaking down, I can feel it. Please go with me. I'll make it   
   worth your while."   
      
   Dana was silent on the other end of the phone. He was right, she   
   *was* breaking down. She sighed heavily.   
      
   "What time?"   
      
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   Mulder made sure he was seated intimately close to Dana when they sat   
   down for a late dinner. The atmosphere of the restaurant he'd chosen   
   was cozy. The room was dimly lit for a romantic evening. A pianist   
   was playing across the room. It was perfect for what he had in mind.   
      
   "Tonight, I'd like to talk about us," he announced to her. Her   
   startled expression was worth all the money in the world. He   
   specified. "I want to know everything about you. It's been months and   
   we haven't said anything about ourselves."   
      
   "Maybe that's for a reason," she pointed out.   
      
   "Yeah, you continue to pull away and hold back while I continue to   
   pursue because I hate giving up," he summed up for her.   
      
   "My middle name is Katherine," she started, falling for his trick. "I   
   was born in San Diego in 1964. I have three siblings-two brothers and   
   one sister. My father's in the Navy so I spent much of my life moving   
   around."   
      
   "Did that get old after a while? Moving all the time?" he wondered.   
      
   "In my teenage years it did. You make friends and then you have to   
   leave again. I was always the new kid in school and I hated it. We   
   were finally stable when I was 16, here in D.C."   
      
   "Did your mother work or was she a stay at home mom?"   
      
   "Stay at home. With four kids and my father gone so often she   
   couldn't work."   
      
   "Wow, what else should I know about you?" he wondered, his curious   
   nature ever present.   
      
   She had to stop and think for a moment. "Well, winter is my favorite   
   season, but I hate the cold. I love Christmas. I love the color blue   
   and I hate the color pink. I've never been married, never owned a   
   pet, and I'm Catholic. How's that?"   
      
   He looked at her confident expression. It was close to what he wanted   
   but he still wanted to know more.   
      
   "What's your favorite book?" She opened her mouth to respond but he   
   cut her off. "Your *real* favorite book?"   
      
   Caught, she looked down. "Breakfast at Tiffany's," she muttered.   
      
   "What're your sibling's names?"   
      
   "Bill, Melissa, and Charlie. My parents are William and Margaret."   
      
   "If you weren't a doctor, what would be doing?"   
      
   "I'd be a forensic pathologist."   
      
   "Impressive. Which side of the bed do you prefer?"   
      
   She blinked. "Why do you need to know that?" she demanded to know.   
      
   "Because I'm curious," he said as if obvious.   
      
   Hesitantly, she answered, "the right side."   
      
   "How ironic. I prefer the left side," he smiled.   
      
   "Please move to the next question," she pleaded.   
      
   He had to think about his next revealing question. He wanted to know   
   something about her no one else knew.   
      
   "What would you name you first child?"   
      
   Her breath caught in her throat. "I … I don't know."   
      
   "Yes, you do. You just don't want to tell me."   
      
   Her eyes met his. Damn him and his gorgeous eyes. She took a few deep   
   breaths before replying.   
      
   "Angela or Cassandra for a girl and William for a boy. I've always   
   liked those names," she admitted in a faint voice he had to strain to   
   hear.   
      
   Mulder smiled and scooted closer. "Must be fate," he told her. "My   
   middle name is William."   
      
   "I know; I've seen your medical chart," she reminded him. She   
   recovered quickly from her falter earlier. "But enough about me. Tell   
   me about you."   
      
   He leaned back in his chair, a smile on his face. "You're sneaky. I   
   was hoping I would get a few more questions out of you."   
      
   "No, before I tell you anything else about me you have to tell me   
   about you," she promised.   
      
   "Okay, fair deal. You already know my middle name and when I was born   
   so… I spent my childhood days living on Martha's Vineyard with my   
   mother, Teena, my father, William, and my sister, Sam. My father   
   worked for the State Department and my mom didn't work at all. I   
   hated living on the Vineyard for the most part; too prim and proper.   
   The only good thing about it was the summers and spending time with   
   Sam. We'd play baseball all day. It was the best.   
      
   "Now, working with the FBI, I have a tendency to be injured. I also   
   like winter, I love watching Christmas movies. I also love grade B   
   sci-fi movies. I'm red/green color blind but it doesn't affect my   
   job. I went to Oxford. Yes, the one in England. My love life is   
   completely shot and I gave up on it years ago. But now I've found a   
   reason to try again."   
      
   Dana sat there awe struck.   
      
   "And I also hate the color pink," he added just for the fun of it.   
   She still sat speechless.   
      
   "And, I wouldn't say that I have no religion but I'm agnostic. I hope   
   that's not a problem for you."   
      
   She shook her head. "No," her voice cracked. She cleared her   
   throat, "no, that's not a problem. But if you ever meet my mom, I   
   wouldn't exactly lead with that."   
      
   "Religious?"   
      
   "Extremely. She's not as bad as she used to be though."   
      
   "Her kids are grown up and she realizes everything's not like it used   
   to be?" he guessed, motioning for the waiter to pay the check.   
      
   "Exactly. I think she first realized that when she walked in on my   
   sister and her boyfriend having sex," she remembered.   
      
   Mulder managed to stop the laugh he felt bubbling up. "How   
   embarrassing… for your mother."   
      
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   Mulder knew he was the happiest man alive. The luckiest man as well.   
   Dana Scully was walking hand in hand with him, the *real* Dana   
   Scully. He knew it was real her by the way she laughed. He didn't   
   know how he knew but he knew. She was actually laughing.   
      
   "Hey, you know what we didn't talk about?" he said suddenly. She   
   looked at him expectantly. "Guilty pleasures. Everybody has one."   
      
   "You show me yours and I'll show you mine," she teased, smiling up at   
   him.   
      
   He grinned sheepishly at her. There was some information he was   
   willing to share and some he wasn't.   
      
   "Baseball … and some other things but I don't want your opinion of me   
   to change."   
      
   "Is it illegal?"   
      
   "No, it's perfectly legal," he assured. He squeezed her hand. "What's   
   yours?"   
      
   There was no hesitation from her. She felt safe with him. She knew   
   she was safe with him. "Chocolate and bubble baths. Really long   
      
   [continued in next message]   
      
   --- SoupGate-Win32 v1.05   
    * Origin: you cannot sedate... all the things you hate (1:229/2)